


Two Days

by aces_low



Series: drabbles and ish [18]
Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Explicit Language, Fighting, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 07:42:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12677439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aces_low/pseuds/aces_low
Summary: Brad forgot to tell Ray something very important.





	Two Days

**Author's Note:**

> Got a prompt over on tumblr to write some BradRay saying I love you during a fight.
> 
> This is what I came up with.

“Did you still want to go pick out a TV next week?” Brad asks, calling back toward the kitchen where Ray has been forced to stay until he finishes his breakfast.

Ray isn’t allowed to eat in any other room in the house but the kitchen. If Brad had his way, Ray would only be allowed to eat over the sink. Apparently, that’s ‘too harsh’ so, instead, Brad has insisted that Ray never bring his food out of the kitchen, or else learn how to eat like a human being. So, Ray stays in the kitchen.

“I was thinking Wednesday,” Ray calls back, his voice slightly garbled by the food he’s shoved in his mouth.

Brad scrunches up his forehead and turns to look back over the couch where he can see Ray just on the edge of where the kitchen floor leads into the living room floor.

“You want to go without me?” he asks. That doesn’t make any sense, Brad is the one that has been doing all the research on what the best TV would be for them, he’s the one that’s been looking through Consumers Digest and scanning message boards for what they’d want, he even kept in mind Ray’s video game needs.

“No?” Ray looks just as confused as he feels now and they just stare at each other, eyes narrowed for a moment.

“I don’t leave too early, but we’d have to go in the morning and I won’t be able to help get it set up,” Brad explains slowly. Not that Ray would need any help setting the TV up, but Brad would like to be able to use it at least once before he ships off, or at least get to see what he’s paying for because it’s definitely coming out of his pocket.

“Leave? Where’re you going?” Ray asks before taking another spoonful of cereal, milk dribbling down his chin like he’s a toddler.

Brad doesn’t even have it in him to make fun of his face though because he’s genuinely concerned about how confused Ray looks.

“England. That’s in Europe. Did your whiskey-tango, backwoods schools not teach you geography?”

Ray goes back to eating. “I said Wednesday, shithead.”

“Oh, so they forgot to teach you days of the week too? How’d you get into college again? Did you suck the dean’s cock?”

This time Ray stops and frowns, not a typical reaction to Brad’s teasing, before slamming his spoon back into the bowl, sloshing some milk out onto the tile floor before turning and walking further into the kitchen.

Brad reaches his neck up but can’t see Ray past the kitchen wall for a few seconds before he comes stomping back, this time without his bowl, but holding something else that Brad can’t quite see until he’s in the living room.

Ray shoves the wall calendar in Brad’s face. This month’s picture is a topless blonde on a Harley whose breasts have been covered by two dick stickers. Brad remembers the week Ray got the hundred pack of stickers with various types of dicks, he’d put them on every surface he could find, he’s still not sure where Ray got the calendar.

“See, you leave Friday, numbnuts,” Ray says, pointing to the 11th, where indeed it does say ‘Brad leaves’.

Brad narrows his eyes and looks up at Ray. “Yeah, that was the original plan, but remember, I told you Robinson wants me there early?”

Ray frowns and moves the calendar out of Brad’s face. “When did you tell me?”

“He called last…” Brad has to stop and think. “Tuesday, told me to fly out Wednesday instead.”

“When did you tell me?” Ray asks again.

Brad blinks a few times as he tries to remember. He’s sure he told Ray, he tells Ray everything, even the unimportant shit, there’s no way he wouldn’t have mentioned leaving early. But as he racks his brain he cannot find the memory of when he’d told him. Ray had been out when Robinson had called and when he’d gotten back home Brad had almost immediately picked him up and carried him into their room, the frustration of having to leave early making him overly emotional. But he can’t remember when he’d actually mentioned it to Ray.

“It must have slipped my mind,” he admits with a self-conscious grin, ready for Ray to tear into him on how Brad is never allowed to call him a whiskey-tango fuck up again when Brad apparently has the memory of a brain-dead goldfish.

Instead, Ray’s eyes go blank and he walks back to the kitchen without another word.

“Ray,” he calls back, but Ray doesn’t respond.

He sighs and gets up, about to make his way into the kitchen when he hears a door slam further into the house.

Just as he’s making his way toward the bedroom he hears the shower turn on. Trying the handle on the door he finds that Ray has locked it. He can’t remember the last time either of them has used the lock, especially not when they’re showering.

“Ray,” he calls through the door, but there’s no answer.

He knows he’s really fucked up when Ray gets quiet. When Ray goes quiet, Brad starts panicking, he feels wrong, like the way the air gets right before a storm. And Ray knows how much Brad hates it when he does this, it’s _why_ he does it. It’s not easy for him to just stay quiet unless there is something wrong with him or he’s genuinely pissed off because otherwise, he doesn’t have the willpower to ignore Brad longer than a minute.

So, Brad goes to wait on the bed, ready to apologize for his mistake.

When Ray walks in, a towel wrapped around his waist, hair still dripping wet, his eyes only flash to Brad for a moment before he goes to the closet.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Brad says. “I’m an idiot, my brain has been fried from all the California sun that I don’t know my ass from my elbow, my birth parents must have dropped me on my head when I was born.”

He gives these insults as a peace offering, hoping for Ray to join in with much better ones, but instead, Ray just sighs and shakes his head.

“It’s just two days, Ray, it’s not like I forgot to tell you I’m leaving tomorrow or something,” Brad argues, already frustrated with Ray’s silence.

That seems to spark something in Ray, as he turns around there is a fire behind his eyes.

“You’re gonna be gone for _months_ ,” Ray says, voice soft and even and so unlike himself that Brad’s stomach clenches.

“I know,” Brad says slowly, cautiously, knowing he’s on the edge of saying the wrong thing but not entirely sure what that is.

Ray just stares at him for the longest minute.

Brad’s skin feels prickly and the longer Ray just stares the more uncomfortable he feels. He’s never been good at controlling himself around Ray. He gets under Brad’s skin in a way no one else ever has. Sometimes that’s a good thing, like how being with Ray reminded him that he was, at one point in his life, capable of showing another person love and affection, something he’d thought he’d lost. Sometimes it’s terrible and makes him say or do things that are completely idiotic.

“It’s not like you’ve never forgotten to tell me shit.”

Like that.

Ray throws the clothes in his hands at Brad’s face. The shirt doesn’t do much damage, but the button of his jeans catches Brad against the ear and he winces slightly at the sharp pain.

“Fuck you.”

Now Brad is angry too, so he stands, glaring right back at Ray.

“Yeah, fuck you too, Ray. If you’re gonna act like a whiny bitch just because I forgot to tell you about two fucking days then fuck you too.”

“It’s not _just_ two fucking days, you asshole. It’s two days. It’s two less days than we had together before. And the already microscopic amount of time we do get together fucking sucks and now we just lost two more days. So, I’m really fucking sorry that I would like to be around the person that I love more than a few weeks at a time and get a little pissed off when I lose that time.”

He seems to run out of steam after that, shoulders slumping as he looks down at the floor.

Ray somehow takes up more space than anyone Brad has ever met, his voice, his presence, his energy all filling up whatever room he’s in. Eyes can’t help but turn to him, the air shifts when he walks through it, or maybe that’s just something Brad experiences. Either way, he’s a larger than life force most of the time.

But in vulnerable moments like this, that’s when Brad is reminded of how small Ray actually is, and he hates it.

“I’m sorry,” Brad says again, this time actually understanding what he’s apologizing for. “You’re right, it sucks.”

Ray shrugs.

Brad takes the few steps toward him and tentatively wraps his arms around him, unsure if Ray’s anger is gone or just on pause. But Ray doesn’t push him away, which is a good sign.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, into Ray’s hair.

“I know.”

“I’ll be home longer after this,” Brad reminds him.

“I know.” Ray brings his arms up to wrap around Brad’s waist.

Brad slowly walks backward and Ray follows.

He sits down on the bed, holding onto Ray’s waist as Ray stands over him, resting his hands on Brad’s shoulders.

“I love you too by the way,” Brad tells him.

Ray grins.

“You’re embarrassing yourself, Colbert,” he says before leaning down to kiss him hard.

Brad smiles against the kiss and tugs Ray into his lap.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
